by Baker, Katy
With a sigh, she returned to the table and sat down. Her grandmother’s journal sat open on the table beside the keystone. A parchment covered in Jess’s own writing lay next to it. She’d been studying Grandma Rosa’s calculations, trying to work out what they meant.
She propped her hand on her chin and stared down at the journal. Rows of calculations filled the page, each one starting with a symbol that matched those scrawled on the keystone’s surface. But why? What had her grandmother been trying to find out?
Jess had laboriously worked through the calculations and had come up with a set of numbers which she’d written on the parchment but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how the numbers corresponded to the symbols.
It was giving her a headache. She pushed the journal away and leaned back in the chair. If Ramsay were here, maybe he could figure it out.
Ramsay.
Her heart contracted at the thought of him. Her first instinct when her past had been revealed earlier had been to turn to him for comfort. He’d put his arm around her and she’d immediately felt safe.
But he’d been in league with Artair and Adaira Campbell and he’d kept so many secrets. Her emotions were so tangled she couldn’t begin to figure them out.
There was a knock on the door and Jess looked up to see Ramsay standing there. No. Wait. It wasn’t Ramsay, it was Ross.
“Laird MacSual asked me to bring ye this.”
He crossed over to her and held out a rolled parchment which Jess took gratefully. It was a log her grandfather had been keeping of the phases of the moon.
“Thanks.”
Ross leaned on the wall and gazed out of the window. “It’s beautiful here isnae it? I can understand why Laird MacSual makes his home here. Sometimes I long to retire to a place like this, somewhere quiet where I can live in peace and watch my children grow.”
She looked at him, surprised by such sentiment. “But you have Dun Ringill. You’ll be laird one day.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Will I? Ramsay has as great a claim to that title as I.”
Jess blinked. She’d never thought of that. Ross and Ramsay were twins. Who, then, would inherit after their father? How would they decide?
Seeing her expression, Ross laughed lightly. “Dinna look so worried. Ye are right, lass. He willnae be laird after our father. Not because he doesnae have the right. Not because he wouldnae be damned good at it. But because he doesnae want it. He’s never wanted it. Even when we were children, I was the one who was always chasing something out of reach, wanting more, never content. I got into a lot of trouble. Ramsay always got me out of it. And he never asked aught for himself.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He sighed and turned to face her. “Because I’ve never seen my brother look at any woman the way he looks at ye and I wish for the tension between the two of ye to be ended. For both yer sakes.”
Jess flushed. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isnae it? Seems to me it’s as simple as ye choose it to be.”
She shook her head. “Easy to say. Not so easy in practise. How am I supposed to know if he’s being honest with me?”
“I canna answer that question. Only ye can do that. Did he tell ye why he was sent to the future?”
“He made a bargain with the Fae.”
“Aye,” Ross nodded. “But did he tell ye how that came about?” He glanced out at the valley once more and a shadow crossed his face as though he was remembering painful memories. “He died, Jess,” he said softly. “Ramsay died—to save me. But Irene MacAskill has power over time. She offered to change the past and give him the chance to live again—in the twenty-first century. But in this timeline, he was dead. Do ye understand what I’m saying? He would have no way of knowing if coming back here would snap the timeline back into place and kill him. Yet he did it. To save ye. To save Laird MacSual and his people. To save all of us.” He looked at her. “Trust yer instincts. Trust to yer knowledge of what kind of man my brother is.” He smiled. “That’s all I ask.”
“THAT’S THE LAST OF them,” Archer said. “There isnae enough room in the stables for all the horses so we’ll put the rest out to pasture. I’ll set some of the lads to guard them.”
“Good work.” Ramsay clapped Archer on the shoulder.
Through the gates he could see the last of Ross’s warriors trickling into the village to be billeted in better quarters now they had a formal alliance with Laird MacSual. Over by the gate the laird was deep in conversation with Maggie, examining some documents, and Blair had ridden out with a party of MacSual’s men on patrol.
He sighed. It was getting late and would be dark soon. It had taken all afternoon to organize the distribution of their forces and it had rained incessantly. Now he was soaked to the skin and freezing cold besides. He bade farewell to Archer and turned back to the manor house, taking the steps up to the door two at a time.
Ramsay, Ross, Blair and many of Ross’s lieutenants had been given quarters in the manor house itself and it had become the base of their operations. He climbed the stairs to the tiny room assigned him, unbuckled his sword-belt and tossed it into a corner, then took off his soggy plaid and shirt, grabbed a cloth and began drying himself. All the while his thoughts kept returning to Jess. She was MacSual’s granddaughter. He could still hardly believe it.
There was so much he needed to say to her. He longed for her to touch him the way she had in MacSual’s observatory when she’d leaned against him for comfort. Oh, Lord, he just wanted to be near her. But she’d kept her distance, and he had to respect that, even though it was driving him to distraction.
There was a knock at the door. “Dinna fash,” he called, thinking it was a servant. “I dinna need aught.”
He heard the latch lift and the door swing open. He turned. “Did ye not hear me? I said I dinna need—” His words trailed off. It was no servant standing there looking at him with eyes so beautiful he could drown in them. It was no servant watching him with a gaze that sent heat pounding through his body like a lightning strike.
It was Jess.
RAMSAY FROZE AS HE turned to look at her, a towel clasped in one hand. Jess blinked. He was shirtless, and she found herself staring at the hard lines of his muscle and the sleek suppleness of his skin.
Perfect! This was all she needed. She’d come to talk but the sight of his half-naked body sent her thoughts skittering. She pulled in a breath, closed the door behind her, and took a few steps into the room.
A heavy silence fell. Ramsay watched her. She struggled for words.
“Um. Your room is very...cozy,” she managed at last.
Ramsay lowered the towel. He glanced around as if seeing the room for the first time. “Better than a tent, anyway.”
Now that she was here everything she’d wanted to say had flown right out of her head. Ramsay’s nearness did that to her. Even though there was a gap between them, she could feel his presence like an electrical current against her skin.
He shifted position, straightened, and put down the towel. “Jess,” he said in a low voice. “Why have ye come here?”
The candlelight cast ripples of light and shadow across his body. His damp hair glinted like burnished copper. Her fingers twitched, aching to touch him, she felt her feet shift, longing to run to him. She forced herself to remain exactly where she was.
“You know why I’ve come.”
“Do I?” His voice was low and husky.
She ached to go to him but could not. A gulf still lay between them.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“You know what about, damn you!” she snapped. “Ramsay, please don’t make this harder than it already is. I came to...to...oh I don’t know what I came to do!” She couldn’t find the words. She couldn’t string her thoughts into sentences. It was all such a mess.
“Much has happened,” Ramsay rumbled. “Much of which I dinna understand. But I understand this: I’ve missed ye,
Jess. I dinna want animosity between us.” He took a step forward as if he would approach but then stopped himself. “I would ask yer forgiveness but I realize I dinna have the right to ask that. But regardless of what’s happened between us, my vow still holds. I promised to protect ye and see ye safely home. Will ye allow me to do that? We are still comrades are we not?”
“Comrades?” she echoed with a wry smile. “Is that all we are?”
He didn’t answer but his nostrils flared and he looked away, staring out of the window at the darkening landscape.
“Ramsay,” she said. “Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”
He turned to face her and there was pain in his eyes. “I didnae mean to lie to ye. I never thought it would matter.”
“You didn’t think it would matter?” Jess asked, incredulously. “You didn’t think I deserved the truth?”
“That’s not what I meant!” he snapped, anger flaring in his eyes. “I didnae think it would matter because ye were just some random woman who’d got tangled up in this. Ye were just some random woman who would go home, carry on her life, and we would be naught to each other. It didnae quite work out that way! Turns out none of this was random after all. Turns out ye are the granddaughter of a laird. Turns out neither of us had a choice in this from the start! Lord above, Jess, I never planned for any of this! I never planned on ye staying in this time. I never planned on ye joining my quest to stop the Campbells. God help me, I never planned on falling in love with ye!”
Jess froze. Ramsay’s words stole her breath.
“What...what did you say?”
He threw up his hands and stalked to the window. Leaning his hands on the sill, he lowered his head until his forehead rested against the glass.
“I never planned on falling in love with ye,” he repeated, his voice so low Jess could barely hear. “But it happened anyway. And, Lord help me, I wouldnae change it. I wouldnae change any of it.”
Jess’s heartbeat quickened. She felt a sensation deep inside. It started out as a tiny, warm spark. Then it grew, lighting something inside her that it took her a moment to recognize. Joy.
He loved her. Ramsay loved her.
She crossed the room to stand behind him. He was still leaning with his head against the window, eyes closed, breathing ragged. Hesitantly, she reached out and pressed her palm against his back. He tensed, inhaling sharply.
“Ramsay, look at me.”
He turned to face her. He was so tall she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She realized with a jolt that she loved everything about him, from the way his eyes shone in the candlelight, to the dimples he got when he smiled, to the tiny white scar that marred his chin. But most of all, she loved what was inside him. She loved his warmth. She loved his kind heart. His bravery. His loyalty. All of it.
“I came to tell you something. I was sitting up in my grandfather’s observatory thinking about all this and I realized that I don’t care what you did in the past. What you did then doesn’t define what you are now. It wasn’t what you did that hurt—it was the fact that you kept it from me. You should have trusted me enough to tell me—although I understand now why you didn’t.”
She laid a hand on his arm, gazed up at him. “You are a good man, Ramsay MacAuley. The best man I’ve ever met. And I didn’t mean for any of this to happen either. When I followed Artair and Adaira that night I had no plans further than that moment. My grandma always told me to do what is in front of me. And that’s what I did. I never planned on traveling back in time. I never planned on getting involved in all of this—although I’m beginning to realize neither of us had much choice in the matter.”
She swallowed thickly. “And I never planned on falling in love with you either. But I have. Ramsay, I think I’ve been in love with you my whole life, even before I met you. And I wouldn’t change it either. Not a thing.”
He went very still. Even his breathing seemed to have stopped. For one long moment that seemed to last an eternity, he just stared at her. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm. He entwined his fingers with hers, brushing his thumb across her palm.
“I’m dreaming,” he muttered. “I’m drunk and I’ve passed out somewhere. Because for a second then, I thought ye said that ye love me.”
She gripped his hand tightly and reached up her free hand to cup the side of his face. He was so handsome he made her pulse race. “You’re not dreaming. You’re not drunk. You heard me right. I love you, Ramsay MacAuley. I love you so hard and so deep that it’s painful.”
For a moment longer he stared at her whilst she watched the dance of candle flames in his eyes. Then he raised a trembling hand and brushed his thumb along her cheek.
“Jess. My Jess.”
Then he dipped his head and kissed her. Jess closed her eyes, sighing softly as his lips brushed hers, soft and gentle. Warmth slipped through her veins, quickening her pulse. Ramsay’s strong arms circled her, yanking her hard against him. His kiss deepened and his tongue pushed her lips apart, darting inside her mouth. Jess welcomed him in. With a moan she pressed herself against him, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.
The warmth became heat, a burning desire. Her skin tingled where he touched her, her nostrils flared as they drank in his scent, her ears were sensitive to every last whisper of his breath.
“Wait,” he murmured, breaking their kiss. “Are ye sure this is what ye want?” His voice was low, dangerous, dark with lust. “Tell me now, before this goes too far.”
“This is what I want,” she said breathlessly. “I want you, Ramsay. I’ve always wanted you.”
Something flared in his eyes, something desperate and wild. His restraint snapped. With a growl, he kissed her passionately: her lips, her ears, her neck. His hands moved around her back to grab the laces of her dress. It came undone, and he tore it away to expose her shoulders and breasts. He paused for a second to drink in the sight of her then pinned her against the wall and kissed her again. One hand came up to fondle one of her breasts, his fingers gripping the nipple until it hardened.
Jess gasped, hooked a leg around his hips, and dragged him close, holding him against her. The hardness of his manhood pressed against her stomach, rigid and insistent, attesting to his own desire.
Her hands swept down his back, skating over the dips and bulges of his muscles, feeling the intense heat that radiated off his skin. She grabbed the kilt that hung around his hips and yanked it to the ground.
There was nothing between them now but Jess’s thin shift, already hanging half off. Ramsay grabbed it and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the ground. Then he lifted her and carried her over to the bed where he laid her gently onto her back. He knelt above her then bent and planted kisses across her stomach, her hips, her thighs. He trailed a finger up her inner thigh, tracing a line of fire across her skin. Jess gasped and arched her back as his fingers found her warm core and began to move, massaging her expertly.
A deep, hot ache lit inside her, spreading out in waves from where his fingers touched her. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted all of him. She needed all of him.
“Ramsay,” she gasped—the only word she was able to form. “Ramsay.”
He instinctively understood her need. He knelt, pushed her knees apart and positioned himself above her, hands braced on either side of her face so he could look down at her. His hair fell forward to brush her neck. His eyes, darker than she’d ever seen them, seemed to swallow her whole.
“I love ye,” he whispered. “I love ye so much.”
As the last word left his lips, he dropped his weight onto her, thrust with his hips and drove himself inside. She cried out, bucked against him as a hot spear of ecstasy stabbed right through her. She grabbed his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh as he began to move, driving deep into her, over and over. She moved in time with him, their bodies coming together in a rush of heat and movem
ent, and each thrust drove that spear of ecstasy deeper. She clung to him, her fingers raking his back, gliding over muscles that bunched and released with his movements.
She had never felt anything like this. She had never thought it possible to feel anything like this. It felt right. So right. And so goddamned good. Ramsay’s breath was warm against her neck, his breathing more of a growl than an inhalation.
The ache inside intensified. The spear of ecstasy shattered, becoming countless tingles of electricity that raced along her nerves. She began to come apart.
And then it hit.
With a cry, she flung her head back as her climax took her, her body juddering under the onslaught of a million different sensations. Her thoughts exploded into pinpricks of light.
Ramsay grunted, gave one last deep thrust as he, too, reached his climax, and held himself inside her, unmoving, as each of them lost themselves in the other.
Finally, Jess resurfaced. Her brain began working again. Her thoughts coalesced, and she became aware of her surroundings, of Ramsay’s warm body pinning her to the bed. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close.
She wanted to stay this way forever.
But too soon he rolled away from her, leaving her cold where his heat had touched her. He pulled her against him and she turned on her side, fitting her body alongside his and rested her head on his shoulder. He gently stroked her back then kissed the top of her head.
“How did this happen?” he said aloud.
“Well,” she replied. “Would you like me to draw you a diagram?”
“I didnae mean that,” he said with a laugh. “I mean this. Us. What did I do to deserve such a gift?”
She raised herself onto an elbow and looked at him. She couldn’t get enough of looking at him.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her voice hoarse. “But I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Irene MacAskill talked about fate.”
His eyebrows rose. “Do ye believe in such things?”
“If you’d have asked me that a few weeks ago I’d have said no. But now? I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it, Ramsay.”